Dead River Read Free

the side yards, the backyard, the bushes around the driveway! Are you going to send someone out here? My girl’s missing and you’re wasting time!”
    “We usually don’t consider someone missing unless they’ve been gone for at least twenty-four hours.”
    “Goddamn it, I don’t care about some time limit! I told you my daughter’s diabetic, she could be in a coma somewhere!”
    “Okay, Mr. Riley, settle down.”
    “I’m sorry, but something isn’t right here.”
    “All right. I’ll send an officer by. You’re at 1225 Boca Tigre Drive, correct?”
    “That’s right. Please tell them to hurry.”
    Adam slammed the receiver into the wall cradle. He ran out the front door and down the driveway toward the street. As he passed by Sara Ann’s car he heard a feeble attempt at the William Tell Overture through the half-open passenger-side window. It was Sara Ann’s phone. He threw open the passenger door and grabbed the phone. Unknown appeared on the display. He pressed Talk.
    “Hello?”
    There was only silence, and then the phone went dead.
    He shoved the phone into the back pocket of his shorts, slammed the car door shut, and started down the driveway. Suddenly the phone rang again. He stopped and pulled it from his back pocket. Again, Unknown appeared on the display.
    He pressed the phone to his ear. “Who the hell’s this?” he shouted.
    Again there was silence, and then a dead phone.

 3 
    ADAM PACED the width of his driveway’s entrance again and again. His hands aimlessly slipped in and out of the pockets of his shorts. As he was about to turn one more time, he spotted a police cruiser approaching. It pulled over near the edge of the driveway, and a burly officer leisurely stepped out, flipping the door shut with a thud. Off in the distance the thunder continued to rumble.
    “Mr. Adam Riley?” the officer asked.
    Adam watched the officer’s eyes take in his sweat-drenched shirt, then the scratches on his arms. “Yes,” he answered.
    “I’m Officer Roger Atkins, Cocoa Beach Police. I understand you can’t find your daughter—Sara Ann.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Tell me what happened.”
    Atkins jotted notes in a small spiral-bound pad as Adam quickly ran through what little he knew. He stressed Sara Ann’s diabetes and that she could be in need of medical attention.
    “I don’t understand what’s happened, Officer. How could she just suddenly disappear?”
    “I’m going to need some specific information about your daughter, sir.”
    “Of course.”
    “Her full name?”
    “Sara Ann Riley.”
    “How old is she?”
    “She just turned seventeen.”
    “Does she go to Roosevelt High?”
    “Yes, she’ll be a senior there this year.”
    “How are her grades?”
    “Her grades are fine, she’s an honor student.”
    “Any partying? Drinking or drug use?”
    “What? Of course not!”
    Atkins lowered his pen and notepad and raised his eyebrows. “Mr. Riley, I’m sure you know the kids at Roosevelt High have quite a reputation.”
    “That may be, but Sara Ann doesn’t drink or use drugs.”
    Atkins clicked his pen and concentrated again on the spiral notepad. “Height and weight?”
    “She’s five-four and weighs about a hundred and five pounds.”
    Adam watched as Atkins scratched more notes at a maddeningly slow pace.
    “Hair color? Eye color?”
    “Blond, blue.”
    “Has Sara Ann had any arguments with you or your wife recently?”
    “No, absolutely none.” Adam took a deep breath and exhaled hard.
    “Has she ever run away from home before?”
    “Run away? Wait a minute, Officer. You think she ran away? Look over there. You see the red Ford Escort?” Atkins slowly turned his head following Adam’s outstretched arm pointing toward the car. “That’s her car. Why’d she leave her car if she’s trying to run away?”
    Atkins formed a neat knot with his arms. “Look, Mr. Riley, I have to ask these questions.”
    “I know, I know—but they don’t make any